


Number Five

by MsThunderFrost



Category: Smallville
Genre: Clark Wants More Babies, Denial of Feelings, Divorce, Dysfunctional Family, Established Relationship, Family Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Lex Does Not Want More Babies, Lex Luthor Hurts Clark Kent, M/M, Mpreg, Past Child Abuse, Past Mpreg, Resentment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-10-26 20:25:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10794150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsThunderFrost/pseuds/MsThunderFrost
Summary: Clark wants to try for baby number five. Lex is having trouble keeping his head above water raising four.Lex finds himself the practical equivalent of a single father of four with Clark running off at all hours, sometimes for days or weeks at a time, to play Superman. But he's not the least bit resentful... Why would he be? He's just your everyday CEO raising four alien-hybrid children that are powerful enough to break his collarbone with a hug all on his own. He would never *dream* about 'interfering' with Clark's duties as Superman, even if it meant he might finally get a full night's sleep.





	1. Alexander J. Luthor Sr.'s No Good, Horrible, Very Bad Morning

It is not even 4AM when Lex feels the mattress shift beside him, and in the darkness, through half-lidded eyes, he watches the manic blur of movement that is his husband preparing to set off to some remote corner of the world to save its citizens from whatever danger the bowels of the Earth managed to cough up this week. 

Clark hasn't noticed that Lex is awake, or perhaps he has and simply doesn't have time to stew in the guilt that surfaces at having awoken him. Lex has long since given up on trying to decipher what exactly it is that goes through his husband's mind in moments like these. All he knows is that the bed is still warm beside him when their bedroom door swings open and shut without a sound, but Lex will be wholly unable to sleep without the solid weight of Clark beside him. 

Instead of wallowing in the bed for another two hours before the alarm will cruelly summon him to come and join the land of the living, he grabs his robe and slips it on over his bare shoulders and begins the long, quiet walk to the kitchen. A cup of coffee, or twelve, will be a welcome companion in the ungodly morning hours - perhaps he'll have enough time to read yesterday's paper and eat a light breakfast before his secondary alarm clock, the pitter-patter of four little sets of feet on linoleum, forces him to start the day.

It isn't that he  _doesn't_ love his children. One would have to be completely blind to miss the pride in his eyes when eight-year-old Alex computes college-level calculus with ease, or the six-year-old twins, Lenny and Landon, recite entire Shakespearean sonnets from heart...

Or when two-year-old Lyra speeds around the living room faster than the naked eye can detect and shatters an Oriental vase worth several thousand dollars...

Lex shudders as he places a mug with Lyra's baby picture on it beneath the coffee maker and turns it on. That had certainly not been his shining moment, parenting-wise. 

He remembers what transpired after all too well. Clark, after doing a cursory check to ensure the toddler was okay, had  _laughed_ as if Lex had not just lost an extremely valuable investment that had been in his family for generations... The end table, where the vase had once stood, had a giant, toddler-size dent in it. Lex was equal parts thankful for her alien-heritage, which was undoubtedly responsible for protecting her from such a severe impact, and furious that Clark was being so nonchalant about what had happened. 

 _"If she was a_ normal _child, she would have been killed, Clark!" Lex exclaimed, making a point of standing over the glittering shards so that none of the children accidentally cut themselves. "And even if_ she _is invulnerable, my penthouse isn't! You can't just keep letting them flaunt their powers inside like this!"_

_"First of all," Clark crossed his bulging arms over his chest, "there is absolutely nothing 'abnormal' about our daughter. I'm not about to have them grow up thinking there is something wrong with them because they have these abilities that nobody on Earth can explain - or even worse, that they are hostile toward!"_

_But Lex wasn't about to back down, "What happens when one of the boys decide they want to impress their friends at school and accidentally hurt someone or something outside of our immediate control? They could burn down the elementary school with their heat vision, or hurt one of the other kids with their super strength!"_

_"We're not dealing with hypotheticals here, Lex. The boys know not to use their powers outside of the penthouse -,"_

_Lex cut him off, "So it's okay to cause significant harm to_ our _property, just not_ public _property? Is that what we're going with now?"_

_Clark narrowed icy blue eyes at his husband, "You can always buy another vase, Lex."_

_"Really? Is that what you_ really _think this is about? A fucking vase." Lex deadpanned. By this time, the maid had come and had begun to sweep up the shards of glass from the ground. "If you really think that that is the actual problem here, than you're denser than I thought."_

_That was a low blow and both knew it, but both had too much invested in this to back down now. "Why don't you love our kids?"_

_The elder looked as if he'd been struck across the face, "You know what? This conversation is over."_

Perhaps it wouldn't hurt so bad, if Clark wasn't aware of how Lionel had treated him following Julian's death. Even now, nine years removed from the bastard's death, the emotional scars still lingered. The idea that Lex could choose to bring child into the world and treat them so abhorrently appalled him... If he thought in any way that his ability to love a child would be hindered by the way his father had treated him, he certainly wouldn't have even brought  _one_ into the world - let alone  _four_. 

There was also no doubt that the children had... complicated his relationship with Clark. Lex removes the cup and takes a sip, the jolt of caffeine a welcome rush to the system. He makes his way to the kitchen table, where the paper was neatly folded, and takes a seat. 

From where he is seated, he has a perfect view of the newly restored end table, sans vase. Clark came from a small family, and while he loved his adoptive parents a great deal and knew that they felt the same in return... he always felt as if there was so much more love to go around. They could've been a family of one-hundred and he still probably would've felt he had love to give. Lex, on the other hand...

If Lex had broken that vase, he would've been smacked six ways to Sunday and forced to work until he could pay it off. Even at the tender age of two, there was work he could have done to pay off his debt. 

Lex came from a larger extended family, but he'd always felt... alone, and...  _isolated_ from the others. Unlike Clark, he learned to be stingy with his love, utilizing it as a form of weapon. It wasn't healthy, but then, when were Luthors known to be healthy, wholesome individuals?

After an hour or so, the coffee has long since gone dry and he's read over the paper twice. At 5:12AM, there should be just enough time to grab a shower and get dressed -

A tiny body comes hurtling down the stairs, little more than a blur of color against the otherwise darkened backdrop. He skitters to a halt just before the carpet turns to tile, and turns his bright green eyes on Lex. Alexander J. Luthor Jr. is the spitting image of a young Lex, with a disheveled mop of dark red hair atop his head and a light dusting of freckles across his pale cheeks. He's still in his pajamas - a black t-shirt and black sweatpants with little white skulls on them. 

"Daddy!" He exclaims as he throws himself into Lex's arms. His shoulder hits the table and Lex barely has a chance to save the mug before it has an unfortunate date with the carpet - thank God he'd finished it early. 

Lex attempts to hold back a sigh of frustration as he sets the mug down and hauls the boy into his lap, "What are you doing up so early?"

Alex sniffles, "I-I had a bad dream." 

This, sadly, is not all that unusual. Alex frequently had terrifying nightmares that had him crawling into bed between Clark and Lex at all hours of the night. Lex had stated on numerous occasions that something needed to be done to break Alex of this habit - an extra body in the bed wasn't helping anyone, and he didn't want the boy to become so dependent that they couldn't get him to go back to his own room once the issue was resolved... Clark, however, had other ideas. 

Lex has never been good at 'comforting'. He awkwardly runs his hand up and down the length of the boy's back, more than a little alarmed to find that his shirt is soaked through with sweat. "Do you want to tell me about it?" He asks.

Alex merely shakes his head and buries his face deeply into Lex's neck. "When is Papa coming home?" 

"I don't know." The billionaire replies, wincing when he felt hot tears wet his skin. Suddenly, he was wishing he had another cup of coffee -

In a blur of movement, there is another tiny body begging for Lex's attention. Lyra, with her reddened blue eyes and sweat-drenched caramel brown hair, grabs Lex's free hand and almost succeeds in yanking him out of his chair. "Dada, I no feel so -,"

The rest of her sentence is lost, as she decided in that moment to empty her stomach onto the floor, Lex's feet, and the bottom hem of his bathrobe. Once finished, she plops on her butt and begins to cry  _loudly_. "Oh for the love of -," Lex tries to take the bathrobe off without moving Alex, but this proves futile, "Alex, you have to get down."

"No," the boy whines, holding onto Lex with an impossibly tight grip. Lex can  _feel_ himself bruising. "Wanna stay with Daddy!"

"Dada..." Lyra starts to make grabby-hands at him, looking for all the world like she was about to vomit again. "Want Dada hold."

"Alex, you're crushing my collarbone. You need to loosen your grip and get down, now." But his words fall on deaf ears, and any attempt to force him to move falls flat. 

At five minutes to six, the twins choose to make this a full-out family get-together - or rather, apparently Lenny had decided to put a cricket in Landon's bed and the little critter had subsequently made a home in the little boy's mop of chestnut curls. Landon came charging in, screaming at the top of his lungs and swatting at his head like it were on fire. Not paying attention, the six-year-old slips in the mess of vomit, trips over his downed sister, and begins crying as well. 

And Lenny just stands at the base of the stairs, laughing his little head off. 

Lex pinches the bridge of his nose, counts backward from ten, and mentally steels himself. 

"Lenny, take the cricket out of your brother's hair.  _Now_." He adds, when the little boy doesn't start moving. Once the bug has been retrieved, "Now, open and window and put that outside. And then go in the corner - you're getting a fifteen minute time-out."

Lenny juts out his bottom lip, "But  _Daddy_."

Lex frowns, "I don't want to hear it. Now  _go_." He reaches down and grabs Landon's arm, pulling the trembling boy to his feet. He gives him a cursory once over, "You look fine. Nothing's broken or bleeding. Now, take your sister's hand and we're all gonna go up to the bathroom and get cleaned up, okay?"

Landon tries to take Lyra's hand, but the little girl isn't having any of it. "No! Want Dada hold!"

He should've counted backwards from one-hundred. 

"Daddy is currently holding Alex," he turns to the boy, "who is getting much too heavy to be carried like this." He shifts the boy's weight, trying to make it a little more comfortable. "Take your brother's hand, now, please."

Lyra's bottom lip trembles slightly, but eventually she relents. "Thank you." The praise makes her beam, though she still looks horrifically sickly in the low light of the room.

A few minutes later, the five enter the master bathroom - the room itself was large enough to be a small bedroom. With some prying, Lex manages to dislodge Alex from his neck - but not before the eight-year-old  _tears_ his silk bathrobe clean in half. He stares dispassionately at the pieces, before letting them fall to the ground. 

And Lex can only stare, eyes wide, at the wreckage. 

It's going to be a long morning. 


	2. The World is Crumbling at Lex's Feet

**Three Hours Later**

Lex is starting to think that he isn't cut out for fatherhood.

He stumbles into the plant, half-awake and with an armful of feverish two-year-old. Lyra has already sweated through her pink t-shirt; Lex does his best not to flinch at how wet her scalp is when his hand comes to rest atop her head, nor grimace as drool that smelled faintly of children's liquid tylenol stained his lavender dress shirt...

It occurs to him that a 'good' father wouldn't care that their daughter had just ruined a shirt worth several thousand dollars, that his desire to provide comfort should override his disgust at the sickness that clings to the little girl like a second skin. A 'good' father would've called out of work instead of dragging their ailing child in alongside them. A 'good' father would make their child soup, and bundle them up like a burrito on the couch and watch mindless, idiotic cartoons because that was what _they_ wanted to do and...

Clark Kent is the embodiment of the 'good' father. Lex wouldn't even be the runner-up.

So he sits at his desk, Lyra secure against his chest in a child harness that is actually putting more strain on his back than anything else. He's just managed to get Lyra to fall into a fitfull slumber when the door slams open and his favorite reporter makes her way inside. He barely has enough time to register the fact that they must've loosened her leash if they let her go anywhere without his husband before Lyra begins to wail and the headache that had sprung up when Clark departed this morning returned with a vengeance.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Ms. Lane?" He keeps his tone cordial - an impressive feat, when he practically has to scream to be heard over his daughter's wails.

His secretary, looking thoroughly frazzled and not nearly apologetic enough, comes rushing in before Lois has a chance to speak. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Luthor. I told her that you were not currently taking visitors - she must've snuck past my desk when I went to refill my coffee..."

Lois smirks, "For a man that prides himself on masterfully controlling any situation, this must be utterly... _humiliating_."

Lex's smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, "I'm afraid that I don't know what you mean." And then, to his secretary, "We'll speak later, Heather."

Lois is circling the desk, her cold eyes now fixated on the child. "You had red hair as a child." This isn't a question, so Lex doesn't grace it with an answer. Instead, Lois begins to laugh, "It's funny... none of your children look anything like you, Mr. Luthor. Especially not little Lyra here."

His patience is slipping, his head throbbing as though someone is taking a mallet and slamming it down repeatedly between his eyes. "Was there an  _actual_ reason you came?"

"Your precious boytoy didn't show for work today. From some of the more... colorful stories he's shared as of late, I wanted to make sure you didn't push him from the top of LexCorp." She can't quite hide the glee that slips into her voice when she notices how easily she is slipping underneath Lex's skin, which only serves to further infuriate the young billionaire. 

"I would never  _hurt_ Clark." He says this with enough force that he hopes it will crack through her thick skull. "And what happens in our personal lives is none of your concern."

Lois is, not surprisingly, unfazed. She had never found Lex to be all that intimidating. "Then I suppose you wouldn't mind too terribly telling me where he is."

"Actually," his left eye has started to twitch - Lyra is  _still_ crying and when he went to smooth her dank curls away from her face, she  _bit_ him. "I would mind, thank you."

He stands and unbuckles the baby from her harness, sitting her on the desk amidst the various bits of unsigned paperwork and contracts that needed a second once-over before they were finalized. Lyra swoons a bit, before settling. Even to a casual observer, it is clear that the child isn't well. Lex grabs a bottle of water from the mini-fridge, unscrews the cap, and hands it to her - her chubby hands struggle to wrap all the way around the plastic girth, but she eventually makes do.

Lex looks at his hand disdainfully. Even if they were only baby teeth, they were certainly still dangerous - she'd bitten him hard enough to draw blood. He disappears into the bathroom for a moment, and Lois can hear the water turn on, followed by a string of muffled curses as he presumably washed out the wound. When he returns a moment later, it is with an unfortunately white washcloth wrapped tight around the wound and an even deeper frown (if that was even possible at this point). 

"As much as I've missed our little get-togethers," Lois didn't miss the almost caustic sarcasm that laced his words, "I am a very busy man, Ms. Lane. If you only came here to inquire after Clark, I can assure you that he is well. He will return to his post at the  _Daily Planet_ within a few days. And if I'm not mistaken, he has quite a bit of vacation time -,"

Lois raises her hands in a surprising show of innocence. "I know when I've been bested, Mr. Luthor. I'll leave you to play nursemaid, then." And then, she smirks, "Oh, and by the way - when your child has the stomach flu, it probably isn't the best idea to leave them around important paperwork that you might need later."

It takes a moment for her words to sink in, but when they do, Lex turns slowly, horror written across his face as he looks at the contract he was supposed to be taking with him for negotiation in under an hour. Three-hundred fifty-seven pages, plus two pages of addendums, covered in vomit. "Lyra!"

The child flinches at his harsh tone, "I s-sorry Dada." She sniffles, and promptly drops the half-full water bottle so that water sprays absolutely  _everywhere_. 

Lex is about to yell, when there is a bright flash - the unmistakable flash of a camera - and when he turns to face the culprit, Lois has the nerve to actually be  _smiling_. "You're the closest thing to a celebrity this little backwater town has. And very secretive about your children. Newspapers will pay big bucks for a photo... especially one as incriminating as this."

It is then that Lex realizes that Lois has been pushing his buttons in an effort to secure that incriminating photo. For the first time in a long,  _long_ time, he's been outplayed. "Leave." He'll figure out a way to get his hands on the photo later - right now he just wants her out of his sight. 

"Gladly." Lois is still smiling as she makes her way over to the door, "I'm sure Clark will just be over the moon about your latest front-page venture, Luthor."

He is barely able to refrain himself from throwing something heavy, and decidedly expensive, at the door when she slams it closed in her wake.

He'd just stepped foot in the office and today is already shaping-up to be legendarily horrific. Lyra groans and grabs her tummy, and he just barely had enough time to grab her and position her over the trash can before she is spitting up what little water she'd actually managed to drink - the rest of it is soaking into his expensive suit, the carpet, and more paperwork that he is too stressed to even  _consider_ filing. It looked like a tornado had swept through his office...

Once she's finished, he carries her into the adjoining bathroom and sits her down on the counter by the sink. Wetting a few paper towels, he does his best to clean the sweat and sick from her chubby face. Lyra grumbles beneath her breath, and tries to bite him on several occasions, but Lex has learned his lesson from the first time and is faster now. When she's clean, he opens her diaper bag and fishes out a clean pair of clothes - having her sit around in clothes soaked with sweat would only make her sicker. 

Is it awful that he wishes Clark were there, just so he could have someone to vent  _at_ \- someone to blame? Lex has never been a patient man (his one and only attempt at pottytraining should stand as testament to this) and even if he loved his children unconditionally, there were times when they drove him out of his bloody mind. Days like today, where he would give anything to be able to drop Lyra off at daycare just so he could have a few blessed moments of peace...

Just as he is strapping her back into the child harness, she vomits  _again_... all over his lavender shirt and dark grey pants. He wrinkles his nose in disgust as the scent overwhelms him, and Lyra's face scrunches up as she suddenly cries out, "Potty, Dada! Potty!"

Screw long morning. If this is the way his day is going to play out, he might not make it until lunch. 

* * *

"Fix this." Lex says, his voice dripping venom as he drops the disgusting contract onto his secretary's desk. He's already had to postpone the meeting until two, thanks to Lyra's sudden bout of diarrhea - he's not walking in there unprepared. 

"Right away, Mr. Luthor." Heather is looking at him as though he just asked her to jump into a shark tank wearing a raw meat suit, reaching toward the contract with a hesitant, trembling hand. The entire front office now reeks of baby vomit. "Oh, and Mr. Luthor... there's been a call from your son's elementary school. It seems that Lenny got into -,"

Lex sighs, "Let me guess - Lenny did something absolutely  _hilarious_ and the teacher just didn't get the joke. And now he's sitting in the principle's office, and they need me to come down to the school because he should have been suspended three 'incidents' ago and the Luthor name won't keep getting him a free ride because that isn't how real life works." 

"Um," Heather looks startled, as if this wasn't a conversation that they had  _at least_ once a week. "Well, yes. That's pretty much exactly how the message went."

Lex isn't even fazed, simply replying, "The principle can wait until my suit is freshly laundered and pressed. Much as I'm sure it would ruffle her feathers for me to show up at her 'fine institution of learning' in a track suit, I won't give her the satisfaction of using it as yet another reason why my _six-year-old_ should be expelled from her academy."

He hands her a bag, which looks to contain what had once been his suit. Just like the contract, it reeks of baby vomit. "I'll take care of that right away, sir."

"See that you do." He is about to head back into his office, when he remembers something, "Also, there is something I need you to... handle for me."

He shuffles back into the office, sparing a glance at the sleeping toddler off in the corner. For how ill she'd been earlier, she was sleeping rather soundly now - Lex breathed a sigh of relief as he set about scrubbing down his desk with Lysol wipes. The lemony-fresh scent was both refreshing and overwhelming, and soon his hands began to burn from the chemicals in the cloths. Twenty minutes later finds him sorting through the salvageable paperwork, and nothing which articles his secretary would have to draw up again. 

He is just sitting down to file what paperwork he can when his computer screen flashes with an incoming video message. Not even bothering to take note of who was calling, he accepts the call and glares at the three little white dots that come in and out of focus across his screen. A loud beep signals that the call has been connected, and Clark's face comes into focus on the screen. He's smiling - how can he be smiling, when Lex is in the middle of the worst day of his life thus far? 

"Good morning, love. Well, I suppose that it's the afternoon there, now." Clark says. Lex narrows his eyes at his husband, and Clark swallows audibly. "Rough morning, I take it."

"That would have to be the understatement of the century." Lex snarks. "Lois came into my office this morning and left with photographs likely to cause a PR nightmare, Lenny's principle is trying to expel him from school... again, Lyra has been throwing up all morning and recently upgraded to vomiting  _and_ diarrhea... need I say more?"

Clark's blue eyes widen almost comically, "Lyra is sick?"

"Yes, but she's sleeping now. It's been about an hour since her last incident, so I think she's in the clear for now." Lex says.

"I hate being so far away when she isn't feeling well." Clark sighs, and the sadness he feels is absolutely audible. Lex feels a sharp stab of anger toward his husband, even if he knows he has no right to feel that way. Did Clark feel no sympathy for him, who had suffered through all of this alone while he ran off to play hero?

"Yes, well, I'm holding down the fort fairly well all on my own." He cannot keep the annoyance from his tone, and he's not sure whether he's thankful or not that it flies right over Clark's head. "Alex wants to know when you'll be home."

Lex knows he has a much better chance of getting an actual answer if he mentions that the children want to know - and this turns out to be the case this time around, when Clark leans back in his chair and offers, "Another day, maybe two at the most. I'm mostly doing damage control at the moment, nothing too major."

"If it was nothing major, perhaps you didn't need to sneak out of bed at four in the morning like you had something you were trying to hide from me." Lex bites back.

Clark looks as if he's been struck across the face, "I don't have anything I'm trying to hide from you, Lex. With everything that's been going on, I would've thought that you'd enjoy your rest." And then, his blue eyes narrow, "Besides, I'm not a child. I don't need to tell you were I'm going at all hours of the day and report back if I'm going to break curfew." 

Lex scowls, "Well, my apologies that my concern for your wellbeing makes it seem as though I'm treating you like a baby. Even if that is exactly how you are acting." He is tempted to end the call then and there, but there might've actually been an important reason Clark called. "What did you want, anyhow?"

Clark pinches the bridge of his nose, "I had called to say I love you and to apologize for leaving on such short notice this morning. Apparently, the sentiment is lost on you."

And with that, Lex is done, "I'm not about to fight with you while I'm on the clock, Clark. Goodbye."

Clark opens his mouth to retort and Lex gains a sick thrill of satisfaction to end the call before he can say another word about it. Thankfully, by this time his suit has returned, freshly laundered, as well as a newly-printed copy of the contract that he's to be taking in to negotiations. A quick glance at his watch reveals it to be 1:30... not enough time to head over to the private school and chat with the principle, then. Pity. It's always such a pleasure to sit down and chat with such an infuriating woman...

After slipping into his suit, he heads to his secretary's desk once more. The poor woman is swamped with work - Lois Lane works fast, and Perry White is stubborn as an ox when it comes to preserving freedom of the press. If he wants to prevent that story from being printed, he's going to have to work for it. 

"Heather," the woman practically jumps at the sound of her name, "I'm going to need you to head out and buy a box of gold and diamond chocolates - the average box runs about $1,250... just charge it to the LexCorp credit line - and a bouquet of peach roses. If she's half as cultured as she claims to be, I think she'll appreciate their meaning."

"Right away, Mr. Luthor." She makes to stand, only to realize that the mess with the  _Planet_ has yet to be resolved. "But what about -,"

"Multitask, my dear. That's what cell phones are for." 

The contract in his hand could mean a multi-million dollar investment in LexCorp, which would give the company a much-needed boost as it recovered from a particularly poor sales quarter. Though he'd only had a small handful of hours of sleep, and his morning had been less than ideal... in the board room, he was in his element. 

He pauses in the doorway, before turning back and offering his secretary one last tidbit - "Oh, and make sure someone sits in with Lyra while I'm in my meeting. The last thing I want is for her to wake up and panic because she's by herself." And then he is gone. 

 


End file.
